


First Morning

by eexiee



Series: How I Met Your Father [3]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Hangover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2013-04-23
Packaged: 2018-07-15 22:07:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7240336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eexiee/pseuds/eexiee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Junmyeon wakes up in an unfamiliar bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Morning

**Author's Note:**

> This part takes place in 2013, directly after Yeah, I Want You. Yifan retells it from his point of view in How I Met Your Father.

When Joonmyeon wakes up, he’s alone in an unfamiliar bed. He’s wearing someone else’s clothes.

“Fuck,” he breathes, sitting up. He doesn’t feel any pain in his lower back, so that’s a good sign. All he’s ailed with is a throbbing headache and no memories of the night before.

He looks around the room. It’s decidedly masculine, which Joonmyeon’s not sure is a good thing. His clothes are folded neatly on top of the dresser, but there are no other indications as to who he slept with that night.

Obviously, whoever it is is already awake and possibly making breakfast. While it’s a nice gesture, Joonmyeon doesn’t want to stick around and endure any more shame than he already feels. He curses his friends for letting him go home with some random man. He’d been hoping to get Wu Yifan’s attention that night, not to make it a one night stand with a new acquaintance.

He gets out of bed quietly, feeling the world spin a little as he moves towards his clothes. He definitely had too much to drink. He pulls off the shirt he’s wearing, and as he does so, he loses his balance, knocking a clock off of the dresser.

He’s pulling on his shirt that’s stained with something red when someone opens the door slowly. Joonmyeon freezes, looking startled as he gazes up at the intruder.

Wu Yifan is standing in the doorway. He’s in Wu Yifan’s house. He’d slept in Wu Yifan’s bed, presumably with Wu Yifan. He’s wearing Wu Yifan’s t-shirt and Wu Yifan’s boxers. He’s wearing Wu Yifan’s boxers.

And now Wu Yifan is smiling at him.

“It’s you?” Joonmyeon gasps. And then something else comes to mind. If he slept in Wu Yifan’s bed, was very drunk, then maybe… “I—did we—did we—”

“God, no, Joonmyeon,” Yifan says seriously. “I couldn’t do anything to you when you were that drunk. What kind of person do you think I am?”

“I don’t know,” Joonmyeon says, blushing. “I’m just…really surprised. What happened last night? Is this blood?”

“It’s raspberry vodka,” Yifan laughs. “You must really like that stuff. I think you had four or five shots before I made you stop drinking.”

Joonmyeon looks at the ground, extremely embarrassed.

“You were really cute, though,” Yifan adds, and Joonmyeon looks up again, his face almost as red as it had been seven hours before. “You danced for me.”

“Oh my God,” Joonmyeon breathes, covering his face. “Oh my God. If I said anything weird—”

“Well, you told me I was hot,” Yifan says, sounding more amused than anything, but Joonmyeon wants to sink into the floor. He’d been impressed with himself at first, having landed Wu Yifan, but now he’s just mortified and wants to leave right away.

“It’s just—”

“And I told you you were hot too,” Yifan adds more quietly, and Joonmyeon looks up to see that Yifan’s face is also a nervous shade of pink. “Uh—do you want breakfast? I have rice and kimchi stew and coffee. And aspirin for your headache.”

“Oh—thank you,” Joonmyeon says, and he’s not sure where this is going but he thinks it could be good.

“I’d offer you sweats but I think they’d be really long on you,” Yifan says, and Joonmyeon looks down. The t-shirt covers everything that the boxers do, and Joonmyeon feels a little exposed, but if Yifan doesn’t mind, then neither does he.

“H-hey, I didn’t…I mean, I know I danced or whatever, but…I didn’t do anything, uh, immodest, did I?” Joonmyeon asks. He needs to make sure.

Yifan looks up, as if he’s trying to remember, but the he smiles and shakes his head.

“No,” he says. “Nothing.”

“Okay,” Joonmyeon says, a little unconvinced. It took Yifan far too long to think about it. “Yifan, I’m really sorry for imposing on you.”

“Hey, I took you here of my own free will. You’re not imposing at all, I promise,” Yifan says, showing Joonmyeon to his kitchen.

“Okay,” Joonmyeon says again.

Yifan’s apartment is small, but not tiny, and his kitchen has an island. He pulls out a seat for Joonmyeon out at the counter, and Joonmyeon sits down. It smells good in the kitchen.

“You really were cute last night, though,” Yifan says, turning away from Joonmyeon as he tends to the kimchi stew simmering on the stove.

Joonmyeon doesn’t know how to respond to that besides “thanks,” so that’s what he says. Does cute mean childish? Does it mean “I want you?”

Yifan sets out two bowls and scoops rice into each, piling them high. Another two bowls are filled to the brim with kimchi stew, and he sets out two mugs for the coffee.

“Milk or sugar?” Yifan asks. Joonmyeon nods.

“I’m not good with bitter coffee,” Joonmyeon tells him. Yifan smiles and sets out the milk and sugar, letting Joonmyeon pour however much he’d like. Yifan takes his black, but puts one spoonful of sugar in it. It’s interesting to Joonmyeon. He likes learning these little quirks about Yifan.

He has fantasized about dating Yifan—even getting married and adopting children—but now that he’s sitting in Yifan’s apartment wearing Yifan’s clothes and eating food that Yifan cooked, it seems almost too good to be true.

Yifan hands Joonmyeon two pills of aspirin and a small glass of water. Joonmyeon downs them quickly with a “thank you.”

Yifan finally sits down next to Joonmyeon and they sit in silence for a moment.

“So, how are you feeling, then?” Yifan asks.

“Really confused,” Joonmyeon replies instinctively, and then he wishes he hadn’t said it because Yifan’s smiling at him as if he knows something that Joonmyeon doesn’t.

“What are you confused about?” he asks. “I remember everything from last night, so—”

“You make it sound like it was a wild night,” Joonmyeon says concernedly.

“It was less wild than it could have been. I’m just glad I wasn’t drunk, or I might not have refused all your invitations,” Yifan grins, and Joonmyeon blanches.

“You said I didn’t do anything immodest!” he cries, and Yifan’s laughing happily. “Yifan, what did I do? Invitations? What invitations?”

“You asked me to kiss you, and you told me you wanted me and that you wanted to sleep with me. Oh, and you told me as you were falling asleep that we should get married and adopt ten kids,” Yifan says. “Ten boys.”

Joonmyeon wants to cry. Yifan’s making fun of him. He gets up out of his chair, and Yifan’s smile is wiped off his face.

“I’m going,” Joonmyeon says, turning towards the bedroom to get his things.

“No, wait, Joonmyeon,” Yifan jumps up, grabbing Joonmyeon’s wrist. “Wait, it was cute. It was—I wanted to do all of those things, I just couldn’t when you were drunk. I couldn’t live with myself if I’d slept with you while you weren’t even fully aware of what was happening.”

“I—I…” Joonmyeon stutters. He doesn’t try to wrestle his arm from Yifan’s grasp, because in all honesty, he likes being in this position. “Wait, but…”

“Also I thought it would be better if we didn’t make it a one-night stand type of thing,” Yifan adds. “I might be out of line, but do you maybe want to go to dinner with me tomorrow night? And we can make this a regular thing.”

“I—yeah, I’d like that a lot,” Joonmyeon finally manages to say. He’s going on a date with Wu Yifan. He’s going on a date with Wu Yifan.

“Great,” Yifan smiles. “Now would you please sit down and eat the breakfast I made for you? It’s going to get cold.”

Joonmyeon gladly takes a seat.


End file.
